* * * *
“And it took every ounce of strength I had not to laugh in his face,” Robin remembered, her own face finally showing her amusement. “I went to bed that night thinking that if I couldn’t get this all-American jock to tie me up and spank me, then I wasn’t going to get anywhere. It was such a letdown!”
“It was better than what many people have,” Chris commented. “You did choose him, and he did not harm you.”
Robin blushed, but nodded. “I know. But I still feel like I really messed that up. I should have waited... I should have been clearer about what I needed. I mean, I wrote these little coy phrases in this love letter, about wanting to be swept away, and be made powerless―but I never really said, ‘Hey, Greg, I want you to tie me up and pretend you’re a pirate, OK?’” When Chris didn’t respond right away, she leaned forward a little and continued. “If I had waited, I might have been able to give it to someone―maybe to Maria, or Troy. It should have been special. And I threw it away.”
“Having mediocre sex is hardly something to mourn several years later,” Chris said.
“It’s just that now, with this chance to really live it, I feel like I made this incredible mistake. Wouldn’t I be more... valuable if I were still a virgin?”
“Certainly not. An oddity, perhaps, but not especially valued. Experience is what counts, Robin, and you should know that. You’re allowing your fear and anxiety to distract you. You’re over-compensating. You don’t have to do that with me.”
“I’m sorry, sir.” She looked genuinely ashamed. “I’m really very nervous. I talk a lot when I get nervous.”
“I can see that. And you’ll speak a lot more before we’re through. Just keep in mind that I’m not interested in hearing excuses or explanations. By the end of our time together, I want to know all about your past experiences and dreams and how you felt about them.”
“All of them? My entire history?”
Chris Parker nodded. “As much as is relevant. I’ll let you know when you’re telling me something I don’t need to know.”
Robin glanced up and looked out the window. The late evening darkness was cool, enveloping. I could still walk out now, she thought, catching the shadow of her reflection in the glass. I could just tell him that I must have been mistaken, insane, I have a job to do. I have to go to Italy in two months. I can leave and just go on like I was. I was happy. I am happy. I can find someone new.
But if I leave, I’ll never know. Never know if I was really ready for this. If I could have been....
Robin turned back to Chris and lowered her head. “I’ve always been strong,” she said, her tone a sharp contrast to her words. “I did what I wanted to, and never let someone run my life. And I can’t remember a time when I didn’t want to be a slave.”
“Good,” Chris said smoothly. He rose, and with a speed she could have never suspected, pulled her up off the couch by the front of her jacket. She gasped at his strength, and rose to her toes, her eyes just barely above his. His fist was tight against her throat, his body terrifyingly close.
“Maybe I can make you into one, girl,” he said softly. “What do you have to say to that?”
Robin gasped in another breath. Oh God! Oh, I want this! What do I say? What does he want me to say?
“That was a question!” he barked. “When I ask you a question, I expect an immediate, honest reply!”
“Yes! I mean, thank you, sir, yes, I want you to make me a slave!” Robin gasped again, her heart pounding, and her throat pressing against Chris’s knuckles.
He let her go, and she fell back onto her heels, but kept herself erect. She tried to control the urge to pant; her breath returned in short gasps.
“Strip.”
Robin took her jacket off immediately and cursed her trembling fingers. She laid it on the couch and tried to be graceful as she unbuttoned the silk blouse. She was glad she had decided to wear the garter belt and stockings rig instead of pantyhose, but Chris wasn’t even watching as she took her skirt off. He had gone into the adjoining bedroom without a word.
Robin looked down. He hadn’t said strip to your lingerie. So she unclipped the expensive stockings and rolled them off, and then wiggled out of everything else. Almost as an afterthought, she unclipped the gold necklace and dropped it and her watch and earrings on top of her clothing.
Now she was as naked as the day she had entered this world. She drew herself up into a standing posture that seemed appropriate, with her hands behind her back, and then fretted about whether she should kneel. He didn’t tell me to, she reminded herself.
He kept her waiting for what seemed to be a long time. She jumped a little when she heard his voice in the bedroom, but it was clear that he wasn’t talking to her. She could hear pauses, and the sound of his light laughter. He had to be on the phone.
I wonder who he called. Maybe he’s calling someone else to come and... look at me. Or maybe to try me out. Oh, get a grip, Robin, you should be over those fantasies! It’s just a phone call. He’ll be back in a minute. A slight chill built in her upper arms and spread across her shoulders, raising goosebumps. As the first shiver ran through her, a tightness settled around her nipples and drew them achingly up.
This is only a test, she thought, trying to calm herself. I am being good. I am being patient.
I am patience.
When Chris Parker returned, he paused to examine her. He had taken his tie off, and unfastened the top button of his shirt, but that was the only change. His eyes registered neither interest nor appreciation.
Well, of course not, Robin thought. Think of where you met him, girl. This is one man who is just not interested in the temptations of the female form. And besides, if what they say is true, he’s seen hundreds of slaves. Amazingly beautiful ones, men and women. So there’s not much to be impressed by here.
He walked around her slowly, not touching her. When his finger finally did land on her shoulder, she jerked a little more upright, and a faint shuddering ran down her arm. He didn’t comment, but slowly ran that finger along her collarbone and down her spine.
She couldn’t help it. She freed a slight moan, an exhalation of pleasure and tension.
“You’re very sensitive,” Chris said, drawing his hand away. “Turn to face me.”
She did, and met his eyes. She instantly dropped her eyes down, but kept her shoulders back.
“That was careless. You should have kept your gaze up, or turned with your eyes already cast down.” Casually, he pinched one nipple. The sudden sharpness stabbed into her and she gasped again, feeling a flush rise along the back of her neck, and a familiar thrumming between her legs.
“Do you have to return home tonight?”
The sudden return to real issues startled her, but she recovered quickly. “No, sir.”
“Then you will stay here. Go and lock the door; put the Do Not Disturb sign out.”
He sat down again, and watched as Robin approached the door, hesitated, and then maneuvered her way around it so anyone standing in the hallway could have only gotten a glimpse of her bare arm and shoulder. She slipped the chain lock into place, fighting back the familiar fear that came every time she played with someone new. Of course, this time it was far stronger than it ever had been before.
Hundreds of questions resounded within her in an instant. Would Chris Parker demand new or unfamiliar service from her? Would he be as brutal as his appearance last night had suggested? Was he really worthy of the trust she was about to give him? Would he want to have sex?
Can I get out of it if it gets to be too much for me to handle?
“Now come back here―” Chris pointed to a spot on the floor in front of him, “on your hands and knees. With grace.”
“Yes, sir,” she whispered, dropping to her knees. Concentrating on moving her limbs cleanly and guiding herself around the corner of the chair without awkwardness took over from the morass of concerns which had temporarily flooded her, and she relaxed in the performance
of that simple task. She halted in front of him, and let his hands guide her to the precise position he desired.
His hands swept over her body in an examination. While she held herself still, her hands and knees pressed firmly in place against the carpet, he touched every part of her that could be reached. His hands circled her throat and then stroked it, trailed across her shoulders and down her arms, probing at the muscles in her upper arms, tapping the inside of her elbows. His fingers tickled her ribcage on the way to gently cupping her breasts, pressing them up against her body lightly, then letting them fall.
Robin moaned, and dipped her head low.
Ignoring her, Chris placed one firm palm on her lower back while the other hand stroked and probed her midsection and her belly. A tap from that hand and she pushed her knees further apart, and then still further, so that one hand could comfortably reach between her thighs to explore the tenderness of her pussy. She had shaved only that morning; it was a habit left from her time with Troy. But Chris gave no indication as to whether he approved or disapproved. He did cup her entire sexual delta in one hand and compress his fingers around it until she moaned again. And when one finger slipped along the edges of her lips, she gasped, and lifted her ass just a little bit more, her face flooding in shame.
“Ah, hungry little cunt...” Chris whispered. But he left off teasing her in that fashion and continued his examination, cupping her round buttocks, squeezing her thighs and running his fingers across the bottoms of her feet.
She felt his hands suddenly leave her, and the creaking of the chair as he leaned back into it. Her entire body felt primed for attention. Every inch ached for another touch; her skin felt like it was alive with electricity. And this just from being so lightly handled! She drew in one long breath and said, “Thank you, sir!”
“I was wondering where your manners had gone,” Chris replied. “There are much harsher ways I could have conducted that examination.”
Robin cringed. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”
“Just for comparison’s sake, then. Up, girl!” He snapped his fingers, and Robin drew her body up, coming off of her arms. But before she could complete her turn to face him, he grasped a hand full of her hair and dragged her toward him, throwing her off balance, sending her crashing into his knee.
“Keep yourself up, you clumsy idiot,” Chris snapped, pushing and pulling her into place. She winced and he jerked hard on the fistful of hair he still held. With his free hand, he cuffed her lightly across the mouth, and she gasped in the shock of impact. No one had ever done that to her before.
“And don’t let me see such exaggerated reactions, either. I know what you can take, girl.” He cupped her chin and forced her mouth open. “That’s it, show me what your teeth look like!”
Humiliated to her core, Robin tried to allow her body to follow his manipulations, but it was hard, because he moved quickly this time, never allowing her to fully relax. He twisted her head one way and then the other, and then dropped the hand from her face and slapped her heavily across her left breast. Before she even had enough time to gasp, he slapped her right breast and grasped the nipple between his fingers, pressing tightly.
Robin bit her lip to keep from moaning, and the heat from the slaps seemed to rise through her chest and into her face. Her breaths came in short gasps, punctuated each time he compressed that captive nipple, and when she whimpered at the pain, he switched and took up the other one and did the same thing. His hand went back and forth between her nipples, twisting and pinching them, while he still maintained a tight grip on her hair, bending her backward.
“Do you like this?” he asked suddenly, pulling her head forward so she could look at him. “I asked you a question, girl!”
“Yes! Yes, sir, I do!” Robin managed to get the words out all in a rush.
“Then you should be thanking me.” He jerked her head back again and slapped her breasts, harder this time, and as he savagely twisted one nipple and pulled it up and away from her body, she wailed and threw her hands behind her body to keep them still. Dimly, through the haze of intoxicating pleasure and pain, she heard her own voice offering thanks, again and again, until Chris pulled her back forward and touched her lips with his fingers. She panted, her chest rising and falling heavily, her nipples burning and itching with pain.
“You’d do better if you simply remembered to offer your gratitude on a consistent basis, rather than waiting for commands or invitations,” he said calmly. He released her hair, and she wavered a little, catching her balance, but managed to press her lips against his hand, lightly.
“Thank you, sir,” she breathed. “For the lesson.”
“It’s not over yet.” He pushed her back, and when she fell onto her arms, he nodded. “That’s it. Now raise your hips. Present that hungry cunt to me, girl, lift it high. And don’t you dare fall until I give permission.”
Robin followed his instructions, so that she was still resting on her calves, her back curved like a bow. Her legs were still wide apart, and this position opened her pussy lips before Chris, giving him a perfect view of the wetness his treatment had drawn from her.
He leaned down and opened her, carefully, keeping his eyes on hers. When she looked away, unable to bear his gaze, he thrust two fingers inside of her, slipping through her folds like a hand sliding through thick layers of glossy silk. Robin opened for him easily; she was hot and soaked with her own excitement, and her entire body shook with hunger and ecstasy.
In the same quick motion, he withdrew the fingers and snapped a lightning fast slap against her swollen cunt lips, and then penetrated her again. He repeated the motions again and again, pushing into her and then slipping out to deliver another stinging blow.
Robin thought she would go insane with the pleasure and the agony! She lifted her hips in surrender and fell slightly back with each blow. Her nipples, still aching from their torment, felt as though they were still being crushed, so tight was their arousal. And with each invasion, her clit seemed to nearly explode with the pressure, only to feel the sharp sting of his fingers a moment later. Her hip movements began to get more exaggerated, rising to engulf his fingers, jerking back in reaction to their impact.
Her arms shuddered with the pain of the position, and she knew that she couldn’t take much more of this without falling, but she bit her lip again and straightened them out, fighting for the strength to keep going. And when finally, she was trying to prepare the words that would let her tormentor know that she had reached her limit, he stopped, and slapped one thigh.
“Over! Hands and knees again!”
She turned, trembling. As her thighs met, she felt the amazing warmth and the flood of her own juices which covered her sex and her upper thighs. When she knelt again, and Chris pulled her legs apart, she whimpered.
“Oh, I’m not finished with you yet,” Chris said, reaching under her body. He seized her achingly sore and needy cunt in his right hand and let the left one rest against the curve of her ass. Without warning, he began to spank her, but not in the manner of her past lovers, who used this particular form of chastisement entirely for pleasure. No, Chris’s hand was heavy and punishing, and each time it fell, his fingers under her body accepted her thrust forward and hurt her in some way. At first, he would strike, and then pinch her lips, tugging her backward again. Then, he began to flick his fingers harshly across her engorged clit. He would go back to pinching after a while, and then spread her lips wide and press one finger up against the hood, until she wriggled with explosive agony.
And meanwhile, his hand on her ass cheeks gave rise to first a flush of heat, and then an insistent stinging pain, and then the awful, jarring pain that brought up red marks and left a lasting warmth.
Robin fell forward, onto her elbows, whimpering, inarticulate sounds of endurance and reaction mixing with every stimulus. And when the rhythm of the actions built up to a peak from which she could not escape, her hips thrust back and forth, her fingers gripped the carpet, and she
gulped in breaths that couldn’t sustain her until the next shock. The wave was coming, it was building up like pressure in a sealed bottle, and each new strike, each new twist, each torment drew her closer and closer!
And then Chris stopped.
“Wait there,” he said as he drew his hands from her body.
Robin gasped, and it took all her strength to keep from collapsing face forward onto the floor. As Chris rose from the chair and walked behind her, the slight breeze caused by his passing swept between her legs, chilling the skin that was so covered with moisture. She moved slightly, and scraped her nipples against the carpet, and bit back a moan. Carefully, she pushed herself back up onto her arms, and stayed there, her head low, and waited.
I don’t believe he stopped, she thought, feeling tears in the corners of her eyes. I don’t believe it! I am so ready... I could have come in an instant! I haven’t been this ready this fast in ages. Oh God, he is good. She tried to ignore the throbbing between her legs, and around her nipples, and the glow of the beating on her ass. I will be good, she reminded herself. And when he is finished with me, I will get what I’ve wanted all my life.
Dimly, she heard him speaking again, but not to her. It again took him a long time to get back, and she was amazed that in that time, she had not lost the edge of her passion. She was still as excited upon his return as she had been when he left.
“Come here,” he said. Robin looked toward him. He was standing by the window, his foot resting on the edge of a low, narrow table positioned underneath it. She crawled to him, not sure what other way might be permissible.
“Good. Now come up―” He guided her with a hand in her hair again, and pointed at his boot. “I want you to straddle that. Yes, get your cunt over it, nice and comfortable. Put your legs on either side of the table, and wrap your arms around my leg.”
Robin did as he instructed, and the feel of the polished leather between her legs sent a shudder throughout her body. She gladly wrapped her arms around him, feeling the warmth and strength of him, the smooth fabric of his pants.
The Slave Page 2